In the Mind of the Second Youngest Weasley
by Nix Wolfwood
Summary: It's seventh year, and Ron still hasn't told Hermione his feelings for her. How much longer can he take it before he exploads?


_**YAY, another one-shot Hermione/Ron story...woo! This one is from Ron's point of view, which I always though was pretty interesting.**_

_**Disclaimer: I don't own any characters in this story.**_

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It's been what, five years now? Yeah, that sounds about right. This whole situation started building up in my head around second year. But nothing's changed much since then, because I'm still terrified to even think about doing anything about it. The worst thing about that, seventh year is almost over, there's maybe a month left in total.

I mean, look at me. I'm a tall, well more like lanky, less-than-average seventeen year-old boy. Yes, boy. I cannot yet call myself a man, for I do not even have the courage to tell the girl who I've been in love with for five years how I feel about her. And to think the Sorting Hat put me in Gryffindor. What can be worse?

And if I'm not already a big enough freak, add red-hair and freckles. Now you're starting to get an idea of the situation that I, Ronald Weasley, am in. Now, so everybody doesn't start thinking, "Aww, he doesn't sound that bad," or even something incredibly stupid like, "If you love the girl, why don't you tell her? What's the worst she can do?"

The worst she can do, eh? Well, here's the worst she can do: "Oh my God!" Cue laughing, "You actually think somebody as magnificently perfect as me would ever even think about somebody as horribly hideous as....you?"

Okay, sure she'd never actually say that. But it doesn't stop me from thinking that she could. But then, now can such an angel spew such hate from her mouth? And yes, she is an angel. From the very tip of her curly brown haired head, to her almond shaped chocolate eyes, and down past her tiny cute little curvy body, to the very tips of her dainty toes.

Just thinking about her sends shivers down my body. Now multiply that by about, lets say, ten-thousand, and you might have what's going on when she'd right in front of my very eyes. Boring blue eyes that shouldn't even deserve to glance upon so magnificent of a beauty.

And that's where my awesomely good luck comes in. Okay, it's not been good for much else, besides when I got onto the Gryffindor Quidditch team during fifth year. I suppose that it was my good luck the helped me find such a stunning girl and befriend her.

But then, that's where my luck runs out. I'm no more of a friend to her, and thankfully no less either. Thinking about it, I haven't actually tried to use anything from my little jar of luck for a few years, so it must have refilled since Quidditch Tryouts. In that case, what's stopping me from telling her anything and everything?

Oh yeah, I'm a coward! I guess that must have slipped my mind, as things tend to do when I'm thinking about her.

Well, I believe I do have some luck stored up, because she's just stepped into the Common Room. Either that or I'm just really good at summoning people, and just realized it today.

She's here, looking as beautiful as ever, with her stack of books. Leave it to Hermione to make a visit to the library on a Saturday. Now that she's here, I can't take my eyes off of her. The way she gracefully places her mountain of books onto the table, then moves the stray strand of hair away from her angelic face.

I wish I could go over to her and run my fingers through her hair, just to see if it's even half as sort as it looks. Then I'll gaze into her sparkling eyes, like I do most of the time. But in this fantasy she gazes back. And then...

"Ron, what are you looking at?"

Oh no, she's caught me! What should I do? I know, play dead. No, that's a stupid idea...um, "Nothing, just wondering why you were in the library on a Saturday." Good cover up; she'll never figure that out.

"I was getting a head start on our report for Professor Bins."

Is it rude to stare at people's lips when they talk? Is it rude to stare at people's lips, period? I hope not, because I do it constantly, like now for example. I think she might notice that I do, because she licks her lips always right after I do. And I only lick my lips when I'm staring at hers. Does that mean she stares at my lips as well, I'm just not noticing because I'm too focused on hers? Or is it only because her lips are chapped, and it's some strange coincidence that I look at her lips when I do?

Maybe we can go by my fantasy world, so that means that she's trying to give me a signal that she's madly in love with me, and if I don't do something soon, she'll explode. Hey, it could be true!

"Are you listening to me?"

Oh no, I've gone off thinking about what I want to do with Hermione, that I completely forgot that she's right in front of me. "Sorry, what?" Maybe she'll forgive this little blunder, and I'll just continue dreaming what'll never happen, because I'm a big chicken.

"What are you thinking about?"

No, don't give me that face! Why are you looking at me like that? That, my friends, is what I have labeled as the 'cute-innocent' face; it is the second most deadly face of the one called Hermione. I always find myself tongue-tied when that face in present, so I just keep my mouth shut and use body language. And what should I use in a time like this, the ever convenient shrug of course.

If the 'cute-innocent' face is the second most deadly, then which is the worst you might ask. Well, that is a good question, so good that I will in fact answer it. The most deadly is a very rare, yet very seductive face. She's done it maybe twice since I first met her, and both times she was almost completely asleep.

"Why won't you tell me?"

She asks in a dangerous, but not deadly face that I've dubbed as 'the giggly one'.

"What is it? Do you love me or something?"

YES! Ha, like I'd ever have the guts to say that out loud. I have to think of something to throw her off track. "You wish." And what's her response to that? A shrug! She's mocking me. That's my shrug, she can't use it. She's stealing it from me, the fiend!

"What's with the shrug?" I ask her, knowing that it's just an evil way of proving that she'd never fall for somebody like me.

"Can I ask you something?"

She says in her sweet trusting voice. Yes, I have labeled all of her different faces, voices, and body movements. I guess I have a lot of free time. Anyway, that voice is almost nearly as rare as the sultry one, but I think she's used it on me a maximum of five times, this being the fifth.

"Um, sure." I'm just so great with words. That's why I'm so smart, and even the top in all my classes. Anyone that doesn't know that I'm joking needs a swift kick in the rear.

"You promise you'll answer truthfully?"

What can you say to something like that? What's worse, what can I say to something like that? It puts me on the spot, and my hands start sweating. But I have to give her an answer, so what do I say? Eenie, meenie, miny, moo, "Yes."

And with that, if at all possibly, her heavenly face becomes even more beautiful with the appearance of a smile creeping up her facial features.

"Okay, good. Do you like me?"

Phew, that's an easy question. I thought she was at least going to ask me something at least semi-hard to answer. "Yeah, we're best mates."

"No, not that type of like! I mean as more than just friends."

Oh, well that complicates things just a bit. Maybe I can distract her someway and run. "Why do you ask?" I squeak out, obviously nervous that this is all some set up she's created to laugh at me. And what's shoddier, she can smell my fear!

"Because I want to know if you feel the same why I do."

Same way she does, did I miss something here? Does that mean I have a chance with her, or does it just mean I've finally flipped my lid and I'm imagining this whole thing up right now?

"How exactly do you feel?" I say while crossing my fingers and hoping that I've saved up enough good luck for this moment to be what I've been hoping for.

"As if you don't know, but since I'm an incredibly nice human being, I'll spell it out for you. I, Hermione Granger, have fallen, head-over-heels, in love, with you. And I,"

"WAIT!" I've stopped her, and I'm searching her face for signs signaling this is all a joke. A horrible sick joke. But they're not there, and her face has formed into a way I have not yet seen. I suppose it's 'questioning and doubtful'. Does that mean she believes that I do not share these emotions? But to be sure I'm not insanely crazy, "What did you just say?"

"I said I'm in love with you."

Confident voice, and yet her knees are both wobbly. She is afraid, and yet, I'm not doing anything to help her. I've been waiting for this moment for over five years, and by God I'm going to seize the opportunity. "Hermione, I'm more in love with you than I can even comprehend."

There, I've said it. What am I supposed to do now? Pretend nothing was just said? I guess that won't work, especially with that face she's making. That face, she's expecting something from me, but what? She's licking her lips again, what does that mean? I don't know! Wait, maybe it means the same thing that it does when I do that. I'd rather not be slapped today, but just in case, I better ask her, before my good luck entirely runs out. "Hermione, can I kiss you?"

And how does she respond; a warm-loving smile and a nod. So, the only logical thing to do in this circumstance is, run. No, I'm just kidding. Somehow I float over to her, not walk, float. My feet stopped touching the ground the moment Hermione told me she was in love with me. It took an eternity, but I finally reached her.

We caught each other's eyes for a moment before I brought my arms around Hermione's waist and pulled her closer to me. The moment my hands touched her back, her eyes closed, and her face tilted up towards me. She was completely and fully ready for the deed at hand. The rest of it was all up to me. I too find myself closing my eyes and inching closer to her mouth, feeling her warm breath on my face. Another eternity later, our lips finally meet, causing a charge of electricity grand enough to light up all of muggle London for the rest of the year.

It wasn't one of those quick little first kisses I've always heard about. Nope, those kinds of kisses belonged to the sort of people who had known each other for a few months, and maybe just started developing feelings for each other. This one was different; this was the very rare first kiss that takes at least five years to brew. So much emotion is hidden behind it; it's almost scary to watch.

I kept my urges down to a minimum, only intensifying the kiss when I felt Hermione wanted me to. It finally ended a few minutes later, which actually felt like only a few seconds. How time does fly when you're having fun. But, we both felt like we needed to breathe, and something of that sort.

I always knew that Hermione liked me!

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_**R, R, W**_


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